At the very least HRH Prince of Wales should now hear full presentations delivered by Lords Monckton and Lawson and their supporting scientists.
With credit to What's Up With That for the following:
Lord
Monckton invites ‘Chazza’ to spar over ‘unroyal’ global-warming remark
His Royal
Highness The Prince of Wales,
Clarence House, London.
Candlemas, 2014
Your Royal
Highness’ recent remarks describing those who have scientific and economic
reason to question the Establishment opinion on climatic apocalypse in
uncomplimentary and unroyal terms as “headless chickens” mark the end of our
constitutional monarchy and a return to the direct involvement of the Royal
Family, in the Person of our future king, no less, in the cut and thrust of
partisan politics.
Now that Your Royal Highness has offered Your Person as
fair game in the shootout of politics, I am at last free to offer two options.
I need no longer hold back, as so many have held back, as Your Royal Highness’
interventions in politics have become more frequent and less acceptable in
their manner as well as in their matter.
Option 1. Your
Royal Highness will renounce the Throne forthwith and for aye. Those remarks
were rankly party-political and were calculated to offend those who still
believe, as Your Royal Highness plainly does not, that the United Kingdom
should be and remain a free country, where any subject of Her Majesty may study
science and economics, may draw his conclusions from his research and may
publish the results, however uncongenial the results may be.
The line has
been crossed. No one who has intervened thus intemperately in politics may
legitimately occupy the Throne. Your Royal Highness’ arrogant and derogatory
dismissiveness towards the near-50 percent of your subjects who no longer
follow the New Religion is tantamount to premature abdication. Goodnight, sweet
prince. No more “Your Royal Highness.”
Hi, there,
Chazza! You are a commoner now, just like most of Her Majesty’s subjects. You
will find us a cheerfully undeferential lot. Most of us don’t live in palaces,
and none of us goes everywhere with his own personalized set of monogrammed
white leather lavatory seat covers.
The United
Kingdom Independence Party, which until recently I had the honor to represent
in Scotland, considers – on the best scientific and economic evidence – that
the profiteers of doom are unjustifiably enriching themselves at our expense.
For instance,
even the unspeakable Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change has accepted
advice from me and my fellow expert reviewers that reliance upon
ill-constructed and defective computer models to predict climate was a mistake.
Between the pre-final and final drafts of the “Fifth Assessment Report,”
published late last year, the Panel ditched the models and substituted its own
“expert assessment” that in the next 30 years the rate of warming will be half
what the models predict.
In fact, the
dithering old fossils in white lab coats with leaky Biros sticking out of the
front pocket now think the rate of warming over the next 30 years could be less
than in the past 30 years, notwithstanding an undiminished increase in the
atmospheric concentration of plant food. Next time you talk to the plants, ask
them whether they would like more CO2 in the air they breathe. Their answer
will be Yes.
The learned
journals of economics are near-unanimous in saying it is 10-100 times costlier
to mitigate global warming today than to adapt to its supposedly adverse
consequences the day after tomorrow.
Besides, in the
realm that might have been yours there has been no change – none at all – in
mean surface temperature for 25 full years. So if you are tempted to blame last
year’s cold winter (which killed 31,000 before their time) or this year’s floods
(partly caused by the Environment Agency’s mad policy of returning dozens of
square miles of the Somerset Levels to the sea) on global warming, don’t.
You got your
science and economics wrong. And you were rude as well. And you took sides in
politics. Constitutionally, that’s a no-no. Thronewise, mate, you’ve blown it.
On the other
hand, we Brits are sport-mad. So here is option 2. I am going to give you a
sporting second chance, Charlie, baby.
You see, squire,
you are no longer above politics. You’ve toppled off your gilded perch and now
you’re in it up to your once-regal neck. So, to get you used to the idea of
debating on equal terms with your fellow countrymen, I’m going to give you a
once-in-a-reign opportunity to win back your Throne in a debate about the
climate. The motion: “Global warming is a global crisis.” You say it is. I say
it isn’t.
We’ll hold the
debate at the Cambridge Union, for Cambridge is your alma mater and mine. You
get to pick two supporting speakers and so do I. We can use PowerPoint graphs.
The Grand Debate will be televised internationally over two commercial hours.
We let the world vote by phone, before and after the debate. If the vote swings
your way, you keep your Throne. Otherwise, see you down the pub.
Cheers, mate!
Viscount
Monckton of Brenchley
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